


As Good Luck Would Have It

by kvhottie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 1600's England, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Shakespeare, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvhottie/pseuds/kvhottie
Summary: When young noble Kageyama travels to London to study Shakespeare's plays and writing, he meets the vibrant and friendly Hinata—who claims he's friends with Shakespeare! But the longer they spend time with each other the more Kageyama questions Hinata's claims, and they quickly spiral into a cycle of buried truths and hidden feelings.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44
Collections: Eternal Zine, Haikyuu Fics That Light my soul on Fire





	As Good Luck Would Have It

The air in London smelled differently than that of home.

Kageyama had gotten a sense of it when his ship docked last night, but it smelled especially potent as he breathed in the air from his open window in this early Spring morning. It currently was an odd smell of brimstone, smoke, and freshly baked bread—neither pleasant nor wholly intolerable. Just one of the dozens of things he’d have to get used to.

He took a moment to observe what could be seen of London from his sponsor’s grand house which overlooked the Thames river. The sight was vastly unfamiliar: endless crowded miles of houses and apartments with dull red and brown tiling, wet grey cobblestone, and the occasional tower peering over the masses. The thick grey clouds rumored to perpetually hang over the town filtered the sun’s rays so that they softly enshrouded London Bridge as it sat proud in the murky waters of the Thames.

“Master Tobio, breakfast is ready,” the maid of the house called out from downstairs.

Kageyama shut the window and turned his attention to the clothes set out for him. He had read a few accounts on English fashion and the maid had explained each piece when she set it down, so he should have no trouble getting everything on.

He easily slid the white linen shirt over his head and slid his arms into the flouncy long sleeves. On top of this he layered the beige doublet jacket with beautiful blue embroidery, and only slightly struggled to buttoned it all the way up to his neck. Next he squeezed himself into dark blue stockings, and then stepped into dark blue, only slightly puffed silk Venetian breeches—making sure to secure them to the inside band of his doublet. Lastly, he put on his tall black boots.

“Very well…” he huffed, having worked a bit of a sweat putting all the pieces on. He grabbed his coin purse from underneath his pillow, secured it to his waist under his doublet, and then headed down to the dining room.

“Oh, good, you have come down,” said the maid, happily ushering Kageyama to a seat at one end of the common table. She stood a foot or so away from the table with her hands clasped in front of her. “Master Theo left very early on business, but he told me to answer any questions you may have.”

Kageyama took a seat and gave her a short nod. Set in front of him was a small bowl of water off to the side, a pewter plate with a few pieces of bread, eggs, and butter, and a cup filled with light brown liquid. He picked the cup up and closed his eyes before he took a sip. It was a bit bitter, very earthy, and overall not very tasty—but again, not terrible. That seemed like it would be the running theme of his stay here.

“What is this?” he asked as he set down his cup.

“Tis weak ale. Water is not great to drink around hither, so we always drink ale.”

“And this?” he pointed to the bowl filled with water.

“Tis for you to wash your hands before eating. The water is sweetened with rose and rosemary, so it is fragrant.”

Kageyama dipped his hands into the bowl and rubbed them together, the lovely scent of the water wafting to his nose. He wiped them dry with the cloth provided to him and began slathering butter onto his bread. He took bites of bread and spoonfuls of egg until the plate in front of him was clean, then washed everything down with a few gulps of ale. The food landed quite heavy in his stomach, and though he didn’t mind, he had an inkling that he’d be much rounder by the time he finished his stay.

He wiped his hands a few more times, dropped the napkin on the table, and stood up. “I will be off to wander around town and will not make it back by dinner, but I should be here by supper.”

“Shall I arrange a hackney carriage for you?”

“Nay, I would like to walk.”

The maid handed him a piece of paper. “Master Theo drew you up a rough map of the area so that you would not get lost. If you find yourself unsure of where to go, for few pence any young lad would gladly lead you. Just watch out for muggers and pickpockets!”

“Many good thanks.” 

The sun was now fully peeking its way out of those thick clouds and warming up the crisp breeze that passed every few minutes. Kageyama walked south from Theo’s house in the edge of the Westminster area until he was on the road along the Thames and then headed east into the heart of London. The streets were narrow and even this early in the day they were bustling with people. He got a few curious stares from those around him since his features looked very different from theirs, but no one made a fuss and simply let him keep walking on his merry way. He had a brisk pace, but he made sure to observe everything as closely as he could—the subdued earth tone colors of the common folk walking around him, the distinct architecture of the buildings he passed by, even the overpowering scents, many unpleasant, from street to street. Everything was livelier and more exciting than the pamphlets he had read. It felt good to be discovering a new place as his own man, free and untied to any heavy expectations or tiring responsibilities.

A little while after passing Blackfriars Theatre, which Kageyama had of course taken his time to admire and burn into his memory, he reached the much-anticipated London Bridge. It was of magnificent size and technical mastery—a hefty stone bridge with hundreds of tall buildings that ran down each side as far as the eye could see. It appeared more like a continued street than a bridge and was so densely crowded one could easily get trampled by a carriage or common folk alike. There was such an immense variety of food, clothing, and wares to buy that he had to take a mental note of that which piqued his fancy so he could stop on his way back home.

Kageyama was so busy being tempted by the stores he passed that he failed to watch where he was walking and suddenly bumped right into someone walking the opposite way. The force sent the person stumbling back, their agility saving them from landing butt first into the muddy path. When Kageyama regained his own stability, he noticed that it was a young boy with vibrant ginger hair. He was dressed in a loose linen white shirt with full sleeves tied at the wrist and red embroidery on the cuffs and high neck collar, brick red close-fitting Venetian, white stockings, and brown shoes. Kageyama wasn’t usually one to pay so much attention to clothing, but he had read that similarly to his homeland, in London he could easily gauge another’s class by the clothing they wore and adjust his mannerisms depending on where the person ranked in comparison to himself.

“Pardon me, my young lad,” Kageyama began awkwardly, trying to overcompensate in his English for his usual curt way of speaking in his mother tongue. “I was not paying attention. Are you all right?”

The young boy lifted his head with a sigh, “I am not a ‘young lad’. I am already a man of 18 years, Mister—” He grew silent, golden eyes growing wider and more vivid with the shifting sun. “You are him, are you not? That Japanese man staying with the merchant Theo?”

“Aye, I am. My name is Tobio Kageyama. You are?”

“Shouyou Hinata Stoddard.” He gave a fanciful and dramatic bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Kageyama.”

This guy was teasing him, and he didn’t like it. “Shouyou—that name sounds very Japanese.”

“Yea,” he said chipperly, raising his head with a smile. “I am Japanese on my mother’s side, so I was very excited to meet another Japanese man. What brings you all the way to London?”

“I am here to study Shakespeare’s plays and writing. Sir Theo seems to be an acquaintance of Shakespeare, and kindly offered to put me up for as long as I would like.”

Hinata laughed through his nose. “Oh, are thee not a dim-witted fellow. And how many bags of gold did thy family have to offer merchant Theo for him to extend such a ‘gracious’ hand. He is a thieving liar and is no friend of Shakespeare.”

“Dim-witted?!” Kageyama spat back because after all, even in a new country, he had a fiery temper. “Says the sputtering dwarf. Why should I even listen to thee, a stranger I just met on the street?”

“W-Well, I work with Shakespeare, so I am well informed!” Hinata pouted, folding his arms across his chest. “And I am _not_ a sputtering dwarf.”

“Go to! Is it even so?” asked Kageyama as he took a step toward Hinata, eyes twinkling. “So thou gets to see his writing process and assist him? Is he training thee to be his predecessor?”

Hinata took a step back and clasped his hands behind his back. “Aye, sure, methinks so? Ah! I was supposed to just step out to run a quick errand and I have been gone for too long now.” Hinata gave Kageyama a quick wave and rushed off, “I shall see thou anon, Sir Kageyama!

 _“_ What a strange man,” Kageyama whispered to himself.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he would in fact be seeing Hinata around soon enough. The redhead gave the impression of a firefly that sparked around you even when you shooed it away. But he set aside those pesky thoughts and continued on his way across the London Bridge and to his destination, The Globe Theatre.

* * *

Kageyama was raised to be a man of the arts. Born to an elite family of Renga performers, he practically grew up speaking in verse. He was extremely well read, well spoken, and well bred. And with all these privileges came heavy expectations—more specifically, the expectation for Kageyama to follow his father’s footsteps and become a Renga performer. But to be a copy of his father was the _last_ thing he wanted for himself. Kageyama believed that it was time for Renga to evolve and so he took to studying poetry of other countries, scouring the markets and putting in special requests for pamphlets from whichever corner of the world he could get them from. Through this period of obsessive exploration is how he and Shakespeare’s writings crossed paths…and he’s not been the same man ever since. 

To say Kageyama was a ‘fan’ of Shakespeare’s was a huge understatement. Afterall, he had traveled miles across the sea to a foreign country just so he could be closer to this writing which lit his heart on fire. Since the first day that he landed in London, his routine was to write during the day to process all the inspiration he was absorbing and develop his craft, and to attend a King’s Men’s play at The Globe Theatre almost every night. Each performance sank him deeper and deeper into his adoration for Shakespeare’s plays. Every word had been written with the stage in mind, and nothing beat the euphoria Kageyama experienced when seeing those words he had re-read a thousand times over come alive in front of his eyes. The boisterousness and vileness of some of the plays, and the hopelessness and despair of the others—no matter how many times Kageyama had seen them he never tired of watching once more.

Especially now that he had his eye on one of the actresses…

“So, when can thou finally introduce me to thy friend Shakespeare?” Kageyama attempted to ask casually, eyes flickering over to the redhead walking besides him. After the last few weeks of Hinata magically running into him almost every day and dragging him around London like a tour guide, he’d gotten used to the dwarf’s annoying, yet somewhat charming personality. He was well known and liked by the rest of the townspeople, and he had a way of lighting up whichever room he was in.

“I am unsure…Shakespeare is always busy and hard to pin down.” Hinata kept his gaze on the cobbled road they were aimlessly wandering on.

“Thou sayst this for the last month,” Kageyama sulked. He stepped closer to Hinata to get out of the way for a carriage rushing by. “I am beginning to think it is just an excuse.”

“Fie!” Hinata huffed, roughly musing his own hair. He grabbed Kageyama’s hand and pulled him inside a tavern they were just about to walk past. Since it was still early afternoon the tavern was quiet, with just a handful of drunks chattering and sleeping in the far corner. “Two ales,” Hinata said to the taverner as they took a seat at the bar.

“What is wrong?”

The taverner set the ales in front of them and Hinata pushed one toward Kageyama. “My treat…or, perchance, an apology.”

Kageyama furrowed his eyebrows and took a sip of the ale, the bitterness and fizzle now familiar to his tongue. “For what?”

“I lied to thee about being Shakespeare’s apprentice,” Hinata spat out.

Kageyama sat up in his seat, “Thou lying little—"

“Wait, it was not a complete lie,” Hinata explained as he put his hands up defensively. “I _do_ know Shakespeare. I am an actor in the Kings’ Men, so we often interact when he stops by to take on a small part or oversee our rehearsal.”

“Wait, thou are an actor?” Kageyama muttered, some disbelief still lacing his voice. “Why did thou not tell me that before? Also, why did thou liest?”

“I do not know…” Hinata shrugged and took a gulp of his ale. “Thou seemed so impressed and excited about my being Shakespeare’s predecessor that I did not want to disappoint thee. I figured that was the only reason thou were hanging out with me and that thou would stop the moment thou found out it was not true.”

Kageyama sat back in his seat with a sigh. “It would be a lie to say I am not a bit disappointed and a touch angry, but predecessor to Shakespeare or not, there is no way I would put up with thee if I did not actually enjoy thine company. Thou out of all people must know how short my patience is.”

Hinata’s lips curled up into a smile, cheeks dusted a pale red as he nodded. “The shortest.”

“But…” Kageyama began, tapping the side of his cup. “Since I am still a _little_ bit angry about thee lying to me for the last few months, there _is_ a way for thee to make it up to me.”

Hinata leaned in closer. “Now by my faith! Just let me know what it is thou desire.”

“It is an actress from thine troupe.” Kageyama turned to Hinata and locked eyes with those curious golden orbs. “My heart has been stolen by her and I would like thee to set up a meeting between us.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hinata said with his nose scrunched up. “There are no—”

“Prithee,” Kageyama whispered as he grabbed hold of one of Hinata’s hands. “Thou knowst I do not ask for favors lightly, but I can not get her beautifully performed ‘Olivia ‘out of my head.”

“Olivia?” Hinata’s eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it once more.

“Yea, the lovely Olivia in Twelfth Night. That is definitely my favorite role she plays, but her Juliet and Ophelia are also a delight to watch. I get the feeling that she really studies her characters and puts every ounce of herself into acting them. She is a master at bringing them to life.”

“… _She_ sure is.” Hinata slipped his hand out of Kageyama’s grasp and picked up his cup, polishing off his ale. He looked to Kageyama once more, his expression tender and eyebrows slightly knitted. “Very well. I will arrange for the two of you to meet.”

Walking down Gracechurch Street, past Bishopgate, and about fifty steps along the wall into the marsh fields was a small clearing with a big Grey Alder tree. ‘ _She will meet thee there at noon_ t _omorrow_ ’ Hinata had told Kageyama the day before. It was about twenty minutes before the promised hour but to Kageyama’s surprise, there she was, sitting on one of the benches that had been built under the tree. Her deep red gown and chestnut hair radiated elegance against the green scenery that she was in.

“My lady,” muttered Kageyama as he approached and bowed slightly when he was right in front of her.

She brought her red feather fan to her face, a light scent of vanilla coming from her gloved hands. “Sir Kageyama.” She gestured to the space on the bench next to her and whispered, “Prithee, sit.”

Kageyama sat down, his body angled toward her and eyes flittering between stealing glances at her face and staring at the floor. “I hope it was not too rude of me, a stranger, to ask to meet with you. But I have not been able to keep you out of my mind.”

“My, what an honest tongue,” she chuckled, half her face still hidden behind her fan. “Sir Hinata has told me much about you, so worry not. I am happy to make your acquaintance.”

“That does bring joy to my heart. If my honest tongue does not offend you, I would like to say you look as radiant as a freshly picked rose at dawn.”

Her fan lowered enough to see a smile curving her painted lips. “Offend me? Not at all, I find it rather charming. For English not being your mother tongue, you sure are masterful at flattery.”

“Flattery I speak not, just the feelings of my heart,” murmured Kageyama, eyes locking onto hers—they were like pools of golden honey that somehow felt familiar. “To you I’d say ‘ _O’, she doth teach the torches to burn bright’_ , for you are even more lovely in person than you are on stage.”

“O-Oh, I am no Juliet,” she stammered as she looked away, fan raised even higher.

Kageyama leaned a bit closer. “Pray thee, why must you hide your face? Are you shy?”

“Yea, quite shy.”

“And what may I call you?”

“My name is…S-Sara.”

“Worry not, Lady Sara, I will keep my distance.” Kageyama leaned back and shifted his position so his body was no longer facing her. “I promise you I am a perfect gentleman.”

“That I do not doubt. Afterall, Sir Hinata has sung your praises.” She twirled some of her chestnut hair with her free hand.

“Is that so. I was sure he would at least sprinkle in a few belittlements…”

She laughed; it was a light but pitchy sound. “Not at all. He thinks highly of you. ‘A talented poet, a witty and handsome fellow, a true Shakespeare-lover’ those are all things he has said about you. I hardly needed any convincing when he let me know you wanted to meet me.”

“I would never tell it to his face, but he is a good man…” Kageyama said with the tiniest of grins. “He has a charm, not dissimilar to your own my lady, that attracts your eyes to him. I wonder if this is simply the bewitching nature of all actors?”

“Only the good ones,” she whispered.

Kageyama snickered and stole another glance. She had been staring at him so their eyes met very briefly until she looked down to her lap again. “Lady Sara, can we meet again?”

She shook her head nervously. “I do not think that wise. Today my sinful thoughts lured me away from my guardian but I will fortify my will so that happens no more.”

Kageyama turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. “Why? Did you dislike my company?”

“No, I had a lovely time. You are a sweet man, but we can not be…I must go.” She stood up to walk away but was pulled back by Kageyama’s grasp on her hand.

“I apologize for my forwardness in touching your hand, my lady. But why can we not be? I am still not familiar with your customs, but is it because I am foreign? I assure you I come from a good family.”

“I know, but it can not be. Pray thee let me go, you stubborn man.”

Kageyama sighed, giving her gloved hand a gentle kiss before letting her fingers slip away. “’The course of true love never did run smooth’, I have not given up.”

She pressed the hand he had kissed to her chest, a shaky voice leaving her lips. “‘I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.’” And she rushed away before Kageyama could tempt her further.

* * *

The last thing Lady Sara had said kept Kageyama up at night and occupied his mind the entirety of the next day. _What about her was false_ , he pondered to himself. After lying in bed in thought for most of the morning and then wandering the streets in search of Hinata so that he may provide some insight but not being able to find him anywhere, Kageyama arrived at a simple conclusion:

_She was not as beautiful as her makeup portrayed her to be!_

It was the only sensible answer. Afterall, on stage she wore quite a bit of makeup and when they met, she also had a good amount of makeup on. She must not be fully confident in her beauty and feared that Kageyama would lose interest once he saw her bared face. But that wouldn’t be so, Kageyama wasn’t so fickle of a man. He loved her for her presence, the magnificent awe of her acting and the ease of her pleasant company. And he would show her that he could love her just the same no matter what lied beneath that makeup.

To do that he needed to find her. There was a King’s Men play scheduled for tonight and they surely would be practicing and setting everything up—so he hastily made his way to The Globe Theatre. Kageyama had been in the theatre enough (both in cheaply priced ground standing area and also in the expensive nobility seating above the stage) that he had a good sense of the layout and the entrances. He entered through a door hidden on the left side of the building and quietly made his way up the stairs that led to the seating above the stage. He crawled through the seating until he was close enough to the front to see the stage down below but made sure to keep himself hidden.

The troupe was doing a rough run-through of Twelve Night, the play they were putting on later in the evening. As Kageyama’s eyes scanned the stage he noticed that no one was in costume and for some reason none of the actresses were present. But that’s when Sara’s voice rang out from backstage as she made her way onto the stage for this scene, only… that voice wasn’t coming from Sara. That voice, that presence, those lines that Kageyama repeated to himself over and over again as inspiration when he practiced his craft—all of that was coming from the exceedingly charming and short ginger he knew very well: _Hinata_.

It took all of Kageyama’s might to bite back his tongue and not scream in surprise.

There Hinata was at the center of the stage, doing Kageyama’s beloved rendition of Olivia to utter perfection. This meant that Sara was not real, and upon closer inspection, that there were in fact no women in the King’s Men. _He had been an utter fool_. And though most of that foolishness was his own fault, there was no denying that he had also _been made a fool_ by Hinata. And it was that one detail that really caused an ache in his heart.

And so, unsure of what to feel or how to act on this new knowledge, he returned home and began putting quill to paper. He would spew his thoughts into verses and then read them over, analyze and parse them, then spew again. Eventually, after dinner and then supper, after unrest and lit candles in the dead of night, naps on wet ink that stained his cheek, and days passing by with more revisions—he had poetry that he thought properly expressed his feelings. Every ounce of betrayal and hurt, of transformed love that still warmed his chest and lit fire to his words, _all of it_ was in those verses. The last line of his long poem called for Hinata to meet him by the Grey Alder tree tomorrow at noon, but this time without his disguise.

He slipped the poem into an envelope which he then sealed with wax, and had a messenger deliver it directly to Hinata.

And he waited until the promised time.

And he waited some more, sitting alone under the big Grey Alder tree and staring at the lush green scenery around him. He nervously tugged at the hem of his doublet as his mind explored every possible situation that would force Hinata be a half hour late. It was when his mind had started wandering past the impossibly outrageous that he saw Hinata’s figure in the distance, slowly walking toward the bench.

Once Hinata was just a foot from Kageyama, he stopped walking. His hands were balled at his sides and his head was hanging low. “Tobio, I know—”

“I am angry!” Kageyama yelled as he shot up from the bench.

“I know. I could tell from the poem thou sent—”

“So thou _did_ read it, then?” Kageyama said with a growl, “And yet thou still had the gall to leave me here waiting? Were thou unsure on how to reject me?”

“Nay!” Hinata cried out, head snapping up to show swollen eyes. “I was scared! Thy verses sunk me to the deepest oceans and also lifted me to the highest heavens. I could not tell how thee would actually react when we met. I am still expecting thee to smack me…”

Kageyama sighed and took a step closer to Hinata. “I would never abuse thy lovely face. I just want thee to be honest with me for once.”

“… ‘Love sought is good, but unsought is better,’” Hinata whispered with a growing smile and golden eyes that searched for pools of blue. “I love thee, Sir Kageyama. Not as a friend nor as a brother, though my feelings encompass that, but as a lover.”

“And I to thee,” Kageyama murmured as he took Hinata’s hand and raised it to his lips. “On the condition that thou never liest to me again.”

“I swear it.” Hinata took Kageyama’s free hand in his and also placed a kiss upon it. Hinata’s lips curled up into a mischievous grin. “’And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts did thou first fall in love with me?’”

Kageyama rolled his eyes with a chuckle, pulling Hinata to him, “‘I will stop thy mouth.’” And without a tinge of hesitation he gave Hinata a long, sweet kiss.

In this series of many wrongs, _this,_ at least, could not have felt more right.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoyed reading it~
> 
> If you like my writing, I have other Haikyuu!! fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kvhottie/pseuds/kvhottie/works?fandom_id=758208).
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dontperishyet)! Lets be friends.


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